4600 Moran Street
Roehl House
This is 4600 Moran Street on the east side of Detroit. We’ll get into its history shortly; however, before we do that, I want to talk about someone I met while photographing it.
Well, to be honest, I met three people while photographing this home. The first was walking toward Mt. Elliott, and we spoke briefly about how we thought the end of the Super Bowl was a little whack. The next was driving in a work van—their brakes screeched at the stop sign, causing me to turn, and I noticed their window was down. They looked at me, pointed at the house, and said, ‘all it’d take is one strong wind, huh?’ I laughed, agreed, and they smiled and drove off.
The last person I met while photographing this home was Honey Juanita. Honey was walking towards McDougall and stopped to chat with me as I stood on the sidewalk across Garfield Street from the house pictured here. She told me that a long time ago, there was a church with a female pastor in the neighborhood, something she had never seen at another church.
According to Honey, the pastor lived in the house and allowed people who were down on their luck to stay there for free. We spoke about how it was a shame the home had fallen so far into disrepair and that we imagined the city might demolish it soon. With a smile, Honey said that, given its history, she thought the city should ‘let God tear it down.’ After that, she continued on her way.
I kept taking photos of the house, switching lenses a few times to try and document it to the best of my ability. I had photographed the structure before, but never in depth, so I snapped away. After a while, Honey was walking down the street again.
I had noticed that she walked with a slight limp—something I’ve also been plagued with for a few years. As we got to chatting again, we talked about our past injuries and life experiences, and I learned that her unique gate resulted from an automotive accident.
I asked her if I could write about her story; she agreed and continued. She explained that she was in the backseat of a car that crashed into a vacant church. The driver had been drinking, and the vehicle crunched so severely that the driver was killed on impact. Another person in the passenger seat survived, and Honey lost her foot. She was in a wheelchair for two months, went through extensive physical therapy, and had to learn to walk again.
I asked her where the accident had happened, to which she explained it had occurred near the corner of Frontenac and Harper. I knew the church she was talking about—there used to be a mid-sized Missionary Baptist Church at the intersection that some friends and I had explored around 2015. I told her that I knew the place, and she said it was vacant then—back in December of 2008, and that’s what they had crashed into.
After chatting a while longer, I asked Honey if I could take a few photos of her in front of the house we had been talking on the side of. She obliged, and I snapped a couple of images. She asked if I could give her a ride, and we exchanged stories for the half-mile trip down the road.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever see Honey Juanita again, but she was one of the most genuine people I’ve interacted with while taking photos in Detroit. ‘Let God tear it down’ is a phrase I won’t soon forget.
Enough of my waffling—let’s talk architecture.
4600 Moran Street was constructed before the turn of the century. I’m not certain who built it, but I believe it may have been the Roehl family, who owned it for decades.
In 1893, Frederick W. Roehl lived at the address, which was 186/188 Moran at the time. Charles Rohr was listed there in 1917, which I believe is a spelling error from the newspaper.
In 1940, Harold Roehl was found dead in a garage near his home at 4600 Moran. He died from carbon monoxide poisoning and was survived by his three children.
A decade later, Harold’s mother, Anna, passed away at 82. At the time of her death, she also lived at the home pictured here.
I’m not certain if it was built with two flats, but it was converted into two at some point.
By 1958, there were adverts in the Detroit Free Press for apartments. The rental was labeled ‘colored,’ featured six rooms with a gas furnace and a fireplace, and was $60 a month, or roughly $630 in 2023.
By 1961, the same 6-room unit had been reduced to $55 a month, and the 4-room upper unit was available for $40 a month.
After that, I haven’t found 4600 Moran mentioned much. A 2008 blog post from John Carlisle details Algernon McAllister, the last private citizen to own the home. He lived there until 2014, when he passed away. He willed the house to the church across the street, Beulah First Baptist Church.
Today, the structure is owned by the Detroit Land Bank Authority. It’s currently listed for sale for $9,900. The home needs a complete overhaul; every aspect of this house is falling apart. If you’ve seen the transformation of the Ransom Gillis House in Brush Park—think that but…a lot more work.
My heart tells me that someone with money will notice this forlorn little house at the corner of Moran and Garfield, fall in love with it, and do the necessary work to make it liveable again. We have very few structures like this left in Detroit—if any are savable, it’s a worthy cause.
With all that said, my head tells me that God might tear this one down—you might say he’s already started.
